Justice
by JacquiT
Summary: Submitted for the second Nick Song Fic Challenge at TalkCSI. A heated converstaion between Nick and Grissom regarding the Texan's behavior with a suspect. Contains spoilers for Gum Drops big surprise there! .


_What the spirit seeks, the mind will follow  
__When the body speaks, all else is hollow_

_I'm just an angel driving blindly through this world  
__I'm just a slave here, at the mercy of a girl **_

How would he even begin?

Nick Stokes had been summoned to his supervisor's office and he knew why. Gil Grissom had returned a few days ago from his seminar at The Body Farm and was catching up on the notes Catherine had left, and the cases to which his team had been assigned. There weren't many new ones, given the length of time Grissom had been away, but there was one that was sure to catch his attention – if not for the case itself, for the complaint that was attached to it.

Nick wasn't sorry and would make it clear that he wasn't about to apologize. The department could do that on his behalf – that was what their lawyers were for. Ultimately, what Nick had done helped to lead him to the missing girl, and as far as Nick was concerned, that was all that mattered.

But how would he explain this fact, in a rational and logical manner, to his supervisor, who wouldn't understand his motivation? How would he explain that he couldn't explain why or how he knew that Cassie McBride was alive, and how would he justify having roughed up one of the suspects?

He knocked on Grissom's door wondering what he'd say. Grissom looked up and wordlessly gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Nick seated himself and waited.

"Do you want to explain this to me?"

Grissom's somber voice drifted to Nick's ears as he reviewed a photograph taken of Peter Locke's chest. To Nick, it looked like Peter had taken a pretty solid hit from a linebacker, and it surprised Nick to realize that he was actually impressed with himself. "I didn't think I was that rough."

The apathy in Nick's voice annoyed Grissom. "Nick, this isn't funny. If we don't respond the right way to this we could be looking at a lawsuit."

Nick leveled an annoyed glare at Grissom. "Am I laughin'?" he asked, surprised at the sharpness of his voice.

Grissom plucked the photo out of Nick's hand. "Do I need to reprimand you for this?"

Now Nick did laugh. "Do you know how to?"

Grissom's face twisted. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Grissom, you and I both know you don't reprimand anybody, even when they really deserve it. You may as well drag Catherine or Ecklie in here now and get it over with so we can go home."

Utterly befuddled at Nick's behavior, Grissom tilted his head and set the photo back into the folder on his desk. "What's going on with you, Nick?"

Nick let out a breath and looked away, tired of the question.

Taking a breath, Grissom tried to be gentle when he asked, "Does this have anything to do with the Walter Gordon case?"

Nick paused before he answered, making sure that Grissom met his eyes, his annoyance having turned to anger. "Don't we usually refer to cases by the _victim's_ name, Gris?"

If Grissom was disquieted by Nick's pointed question, he didn't let it show. "Are you still in therapy?"

"Typical Grissom," spat Nick, his anger deepening. "Avoid answering a question by asking a question."

"I'll take that as a no," replied the supervisor.

"You take it however you want to take it," replied Nick. "But I'll do you the favor you won't do me – I'll answer your question about the little bitch who didn't stop Luke Daniels from tossing a drugged ten year old into a lake. Yeah, I roughed him up. I saw the still from the ATM camera; I saw Cassie McBride with her head in his lap, sucking her thumb. I knew she trusted him and I knew he betrayed her, and I lost it. I raised my voice, I accused him of being a pedophile, I picked him up out of his chair and I threw him against a wall and I demanded to know where she was. You wanna know something else, Grissom? I'm. Not. Sorry."

"You crossed a line, Nick."

"I never said I didn't."

Grissom sighed. "What do you want me to do?" he asked in desperation. "I can't defend you if you won't recognize that you made a mistake."

"I didn't make a mistake, Grissom; I saved a little girl's life!"

"Nick, I realize that and I'm not trying to belittle it, but it isn't your job to save lives. It's your job to follow the evidence. There was no evidence that Cassie was alive and roughing up a suspect was the wrong way to get it."

"There was no evidence that she was dead, either," replied Nick. Grissom sighed again. "You're always the one who says, 'Let the evidence speak to you.' Cassie's missing body was speakin' to me, Gris. It said, 'Find me.'"

"You got emotionally involved," said Grissom. "That's not new for you, especially with kids . . . I don't want to have to filter which cases you get, but this is a problem."

"I'm not going to waste my breath trying to explain this to you. I _knew_ Cassie was alive and in my opinion, that's not a problem." He shook his head and looked away, and then back at Grissom. "Don't you get it, Grissom? I'm not like you. The science is cool, but it isn't enough. Not for me. I have to work at the mercy of the victim or I can't do this job anymore."

Removing his glasses, Grissom leaned closer to Nick. "Nick . . . I'm going to let legal respond to the Lockes with an apology and hope that given the circumstances, they won't push any further. But I'm going to recommend that you begin seeing your therapist again."

Even more angry, but collected, Nick mimicked Grissom's movements and leaned in. "You don't get it," he replied, his voice low and venomous. "You don't get to tell me to see my therapist and you don't get to tell me that there's something wrong with me. Walter Gordon blew himself up. You and I both know I'm not going to get justice for what happened to me. If Peter Locke feels victimized because I pushed him against a wall and said some mean things to him, I don't care. I was out of line and I know that, but I don't fuckin' care. Cassie and her family are going to get justice for what those SOBs did. I gave Cassie another chance at life and _that's_ my justice. You don't get to take that away from me."

Grissom paused before he tried to respond, but found that he didn't know what to say. "Nick . . ."

Nick rose. "You go ahead and apologize on behalf of the department," said the younger CSI, a bite mixed in with the usual happy-go-lucky tone in his voice. "Probably best to leave my name out of it anyway, right?"

Grissom shook his head and looked blindly ahead. "Blaise Pascal, the mathematician, once said, 'Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical.'" He looked up at Nick. "I appreciate that you need to find your own justice, Nick. I just think it's beneath you to use your fists to do it."

Unimpressed, Nick quirked an eyebrow. "Is there any question or problem you can't answer with a quote from a dead guy?" he asked, truly wondering this himself.

The older man shook his head again. "I don't know, Nick. Just tell me it won't happen again."

"It won't happen again." The Texan stepped away from the desk. "I'll see you tonight," he said, and then turned and left Grissom's office without waiting for a reply.

(c) 2009 J. H. Thompson

**Lyrics by Martin Gore, song by Depeche Mode


End file.
